Running only gets you so far
by LoveIsAlways
Summary: One hundred years its been since I saw my Maker, one hundred years I've had to fix myself, better mysef, but that's the funny thing about control. You either have it or you don't, and I certainly don't.
1. The Beginning of an End

1804

I remember my first encounter with what I thought was Death. At the time, it had only been an appropriate accommodation in regards to _how_ I lived my life. It had been barely a thought, a worry in my mind. Death was, and always had been the furthest thing away from my thoughts. The first time that I did encounter this _thing_ called Death it terrified me, because I always classified it as a continuation of life, not a _person_. It had just been an ordinary night; an ordinarily sinful night and now that I think about it the encounter with Death had, quite in fact been eerily fitting. It had been one of those nights where in the lowest pit of my stomach I just _knew_ that something was wrong, or something was going to go wrong. Death's breath blew down the back of my neck, it flirted with the dying leaves on the trees and it whistled through the cracks of my home.

Now, I was not the type of girl who let the wind scare her to pieces, but there had just been something about this night, like I was standing in the middle of Death Valley… Big Daddy Reaper was ready to pull me into his waiting clutches, ready to drag me into the dark hole that his opened arms created. Wide open, and ready for my soul.

His claws scraped at my bared arms, my cheeks and my vulnerable throat.

Death was teasing me. Taunting me,_ inviting_ me in, he begged for me to join him. _Clara_, _Claaaaraaaa_ he seemed to whisper in my ear, sending a chill right down to the deepest depths of my bones. A chill so cold that it's like hell had frozen over. His icy fingers toyed with the leaves, beckoning me closer and closer until; finally, he would be able to wrap those boney digits right around my throat, choking the life from my lungs.

It felt like he already had.

There _was_ no air in my lungs, in fact, for the past twenty minutes I had been struggling with the action of breathing. It seemed, as if, the cold air around me had filtered through my nose and mouth and straight into my lungs, forcing them to turn into ice. Fear erupted though my nerves like fireworks, my eyesight going in and out of focus. My brain was going into overdrive, mistaking pain for pleasure, cold for warmth and reason for insanity. Surely there wasn't anything _really _wrong, right? Being alone in a house with two young children was setting my teeth on edge, with not a neighbor for miles and a storm on the way, I'm sure my hair was just out of place. Was I really justified in worrying so much, very little ever happened in my town and what was the big deal with a little before the storm action?

Those next few steps towards and into my house were agonizingly long, and painful. The ice in my lungs was migrating north towards my brain, which slowly constrained the mobility of my limbs. My hands had to literally pull me along but my willpower was only so strong. Immediately after the door shut, all sounds became muted to the point where what I _could_ hear was muffled. I didn't hear my siblings turning in their beds; I didn't hear the creaking of the house. I didn't even hear the trees and their activities outside. My back turned rigid at every passing shadow, every corner appeared to have a set of eyes watching me but still I pressed on to the upper loft of my home. A loft only big enough for one room but somehow it had been split into two, my own and my siblings' room. The heavy wooden door eased open at the brushing of my finger tips and I quickly glanced at the unmoving form of my brother in the first bed, the varied colour of the blankets around his head going unnoticed at first glance, the figure looming over the second figure in bed however, did not.

First, my sister's blue eyes stared emptily at me, but the last thing I saw was those hideously wild hazel eyes. They were the eyes of an Animal.

The eyes of a monster.

No, _Death_ was definitely not a person.


	2. Death is inescapable

1807

It was difficult to not drag my skirts through the muddied footpaths of Oxford, England. For the sixth straight day it rained, and when it rained… it poured. I was lucky enough to confess that it was only a slight drizzle but that didn't stop me from regretting going out at all. I used to like the rain when I lived back in the rural parts of Ireland, where the water droplets gave every surface a fresh face. Now, I lived in a busy city where rain just made everything uglier. Mum used to say that sun showers erased the pain and horrors of the days past, but I know that to be false now.

Nothing could erase my past horrors.

The rain made everything cold now and I pulled the neck of my jacket snuggly against my skin, my shoulders hunched against the sharp winds on my back. I watched as a gentleman up ahead run across the street after his top hat had blown off, he left his Missus stranded on the footpath while she desperately tried to keep her hair in place. They then linked arms and continued to walk in the direction of their home and I envied them as I watched the gentleman caress his lover's cheek and she in turn placed a tender kiss on his lips. This couple was obviously in love, and I wish I had what they did but unfortunately I did not love my own lover.

My home was filled with warm yellow light when I returned and the voices of three men filled my ears when I stepped through the front door. I heard my lover excuse himself as I hung my jacket up and when I turned he stood in the doorframe.

"Where were you?" he inquired, coming up close to run his hands along my cold arms.

"I was visiting Juliana, I'm sorry Jeremy. I just got caught in the storm," I offered an apologetic smile and he kissed my forehead.

His hand clasped mine and he began to tug me into the room, "come, I would like you to meet my coworkers."

"Are you mad?" I resisted against his strength, "I look like a drowned rat, and I'm not nearly presentable."

A sound of disapproval passed his lips, "you're right, go draw yourself a hot bath to take the chill off. I've left a present in your quarters. Wear that when you come back down," he stated before dismissing me with a kiss on the cheek. I watched his retreating back, lean muscles working underneath his dress jacket and it was at that second that I could almost say that I was in love with him.

Almost.

Slipping into the hot water upstairs was a real treat, immediately I could feel the chill vacating my bones and a sigh escaped my lips, my eyes closing in pleasure. This exact moment actually made me believe in comfort, and in safety. It was a good hour before I finally pulled my pruning body out of the now lukewarm water. Droplets of water trailed off of my skin and onto the floor, leaving a trail has I crossed the hallway nude and into my quarters. The door shut with a snap behind me and I smiled down on my bed, eyeing the gorgeous new dress that Jeremy had bought me. Which, now that I think about it, had been completely fitting as my previous dress had been ruined because of the muddy bottoms.

I smiled at the fact that Jeremy spoiled me rotten; he gave me something new every week almost. Flowers, dresses, jewelry you name it. One time I asked him why and he told me that he'd rather spend his money on a beautiful woman than on useless things, we slept together that night. The smile was removed from my face when I thought about that night, it had been my first time and all I could think about now was why didn't I wait until I really loved someone. Honestly though, how much do I have to love someone in order to sleep with them, I'm pretty sure that I had loved Jeremy enough. Why was I feeling guilty now?

I pulled my new dress over my hips and struggled to do the clasps up at the back by myself. Somehow I managed to do so and then focused on pulling my braided hair into a bun, fastening it with a pearled comb.

I returned to the kitchen minutes later, it appeared to have stopped raining for the time being. Outside, I watched as a young man went about lighting the gas lights along the road.

"Jeremy dear? Are you hungry? You must be, can I fix your guests something as well?" I called out but received no answer.

"Jeremy?" I called out again, and I didn't hear a single voice. Not even from one of his guests.

I walked into the sitting room and found Jeremy sitting at our table, his back to me. I chuckled at his game.

"Jeremy, love, didn't you hear me?" I came over to place a hand on his shoulder but when I did his whole body swayed and slumped off of the chair and onto the floor.

I gasped in surprise and rushed to pick him up but when I got closer I saw the bloody hole in his neck, like a chunk of flesh had been ripped out. His skin was strangely pale, paler than what was normal and his skin was losing heat quickly.

"Jeremy!" I cried out, my hand passing in front of his mouth.

He wasn't breathing.

I placed my ear against his chest, his pulse was dead. And I screamed.

Jumping to my feet I ran towards our front door, someone was bound to have heard my scream. I didn't even reach the door though, a body had beaten me there and I ran right into the front of a man. My hands gripped his arms, tears blinding me just enough to disguise his appearance but not enough to block his bloodied mouth.

"Going somewhere?" He asked, an eyebrow arching and I pushed away from him roughly. There was stony strength under the thin dress shirt that he wore, which was also stained with the blood of my lover.

Blindly, I ran back into the kitchen and armed myself with a knife from our cabinet before I made a run for the other entrance. I knew there was a slim chance that I would get away, and even then I knew I was lying to myself. A slim chance was much further than the truth. I was proven correct when I was blocked again but this time it was by a completely different person, a male nevertheless though.

The air was sucked into my lungs so hard that pain shot through my lungs, sending black spot to my eyes. I could barely speak, I could only wheeze, "oh God."

It was completely out of context but a small, ghost of a smile touched the man's lips, his head tilted to the side slightly, "not exactly."

I took a step back and spun on my heel at the same time, the confusion in my actions caused me to stumble in the general direction of where I had just come from, but not so much to my surprise, I found myself blocked yet again by the first man. He licked his lips, moistening the caked blood around his mouth and I whipped the knife around, pointing it at him, making good and sure my back was to the kitchen window and not the man that blocked the other entrance.

"D-don't ta-ake another st-step," my voice and the knife in my hand shook in unison, I wasn't sure if it was out of fear or adrenalin. Perhaps it was both.

He defied my threat and laughed. "Silly girl, do you really think that will hurt me?" His voice was a purr.

I edged away from him quickly, and I felt inner defeat when my back hit the table surface. There was nowhere else to go, I was trapped and so I relied on the art of delay, "the knife might not hurt you, but the silver it's made of certainly will."

Now that I think about it, it was probably out of stupidity rather than bravery that I decided to try and talk my way out of things.

Both of them paused and I rushed to speak, hoping to stall them even further. Stupidity or not, it was my only shot, "Yes, I know what you are, the both of you. You aren't the first Vampires I've come across."

The first Vampire bared his fangs at me and I too bared my own small, square and very human teeth at him, I hissed, "I am not afraid of you."

This was a lie; obviously, as my heart was thundering in my chest like a million galloping horses as they raced for the finish line. My body shook and my palms were sweating and my eyes flicked frantically between the exits. I was a stuck little pig, and we all knew it.

"Your heart says differently."

I had almost forgotten that there were two of them and my eyes glanced at the other doorway. The second Vampire advanced two steps and I swung the knife around at him, "it's not the first time my heart has betrayed me."

"It beats fast," the first Vampire growled, desire laced his voice, and when I turned my attention back to him I found that he had edged even closer than before.

I decided to keep the knife pointed at him, but my attention remained focused on the second Vampire. I figured that with the position of the knife, I would be at ease to defend myself against either of them, but again the probability of me surviving was even smaller than slim to none.

"I see what you're doing," I stated, the knife jumping in my hand. I could feel my palms sweating still. "One gains my attention so the other can advance. Either way, one of you is going to kill me. I'm not stupid; I know what wolves do to take down a deer."

I heard the second click as the second Vampire extended his fangs and I jumped, somehow he looked over three times more menacing than his friend did. If one of them lunged, I was ready. I knew I was not going to survive tonight but there was no way that I was going to go down without a fight. If I can really hurt even one of them, it will make me feel better. Out of the corner of my eye I watched at the first Vampire slowly advanced, long and lean he was. Like a jungle cat, prowling around his prey while his friend was more calculating and cautious, like a bird of prey.

It was the second Vampire who lunged first, completely throwing me off guard; I had expected the first to lunge first. In the half a second that I had to prepare I spun around and my arm lashed out, the sizzle and sharp scent of burning flesh caught my nose but before I could praise myself the wrist connected to my knife hand was grabbed and smashed against the surface. I dropped the knife and screamed out in pain, knowing for a fact that it was broken. A hand wrapped around my throat and it squeezed, causing me to choke. I was pressed harder into the surface and forced to look in the eyes of the first Vampire, the jungle cat. His fangs were inches from my face and he snarled, "Wrong move." That was when his fangs sunk into my throat; the second pair had latched onto my wrist and slowly, the life was drained from my body.

My mouth opened to scream but not a sound could be emitted, my vocal cords crushed. The hand that was not trapped came up and grabbed at the hairs on the first Vampire's head and I pulled desperately, but my strength had already depleted entirely. My body slumped against the counter and I desperately wanted to laugh as my final thought crossed my mind.

Death really was inescapable.


	3. Reopening of a Connection

My eyes snapped wide open and my hand swatted at my throat. I could still feel those fangs deep within my flesh and I quickly glanced down at my wrist, unmarked. There was no one in my room and I slowly rose from my bed, the blankets around me were rumpled and twisted around my ankles, and I sat there hunched over still groggy with sleep. There was an unsettled feeling lodged deep within my stomach that made my toes curl with discomfort. There was definitely something wrong and it was making me sick to my stomach. I took a quick moment to sort through my emotions, locking away those that were not mine and then came a knock on my door. I stared at the opposite wall, listening to the person shuffle around outside of my door and I spoke,

"Enter."

A man in his mid to late thirties entered my quarters, he was tentative upon crossing the threshold and he inched ever so slowly towards me, afraid that I would lunge for him. He was taller than I, thin with a very light dusting of grey hair in his sideburns but he had warm brown eyes which, currently, were full of fear.

"Y-your guest has arrived, ma'am." He muttered, his head cast downwards, avoiding eye contact with me entirely.

The corner of my mouth lifted for two reasons, the first being that Moira was yet again early for our meeting and for two the pure fear that throbbed off of the gentleman that stood six feet away from me. By nature I was threatening but by personality I wouldn't touch him if he was the last man on earth, I had no desire for his blood, but on the contrary, he seemed to think differently.

"You fear me?"

He merely nodded, shuffling away another step or two from me.

"Then why do you remain working here, for me?" I inquired, pulling myself into a standing position. My eyebrow rose in genuine curiosity.

He stumbled over his words for a few minutes and finally spit out, "I-I was under the impression that I didn't have a choice."

I gave him a look of disbelief, "of course you have a choice. You always will. It's been years since I've even seen human blood, and even longer since I've drank any."

I was met with a look of skepticism and I laughed, "I don't care what it takes, you'll trust me eventually. Now if you'll excuse me. I need to get ready; I cannot come downstairs looking like this." My lips were still split into a wide smile and I was relieved to see that his face relaxed, even if it was barely noticeable to a mortal. The gentleman took his leave, the door closing softly behind him.

I moved to face my mirror, to take in the extreme paleness of my skin, my eyes that were red rimmed and the eerie beauty that pulsed off of my body in general. It was genuinely creepy how flawless I appeared to others, and the graceful lope that I now walked with was still foreign to me, even in my two hundred years of existence. However, the one thing that I would never get used to was my fangs, they popped out at the most inappropriate of times, and if I didn't feel the humiliation in just thinking about it, I would have ripped them out long ago, but unfortunately, they were my best bet in survival. There were always other Vampires out there, ones that were three times my age, and double that in strength.

The only thing that really saved my skin was my manipulative nature, even more so compared to the average Vampire.

Maybe that was why I was the Queen of New York; I could talk myself into and out of any situation.

It was awfully quiet on the main floor when I showed up Moira's figure was hunched over the island counter; she was nursing a hot cup of coffee between her hands, courtesy of Anna, our house keeper. Granted that she was a mortal, she was still the human companion of one of my Deputies. Moira beckoned me into the kitchen with a smile on her face, instantly I was by her side and I wrapped her in a warm hug, "you got my letter."

"You know dear," she said, returning the gesture, "no one writes letters anymore. We have phones now."

"Old habits die hard I guess." Sitting down I crossed my legs, "it's been a while."

"Indeed it has," she spoke with a smile, taking a sip of her coffee, "what did you need me for?"

I hesitated for a few minutes, not really wanting to know the answer to my question. I couldn't really help but feel naïve in hoping that my thoughts would come true. Deep down, I think I was just looking for an excuse, no matter how ludicrous it sounded. "Did the spell tell you anything, was I right?"

Moira's face softened into pity and she shook her head.

"What? It didn't tell you anything or…"

Her hand smoothed over my shoulder and a sigh escaped her lips, "you were wrong, I'm afraid. And I say that in the most sympathetic way possible, I know how much this meant to you. It is extremely rare to meet a reincarnated soul, but to have one- let alone two find their way back to someone they knew when they were alive…it's nearly impossible."

I felt my heart drop to the floor and I slumped in defeat, I had wanted to be right so bad. I was so sure of myself when I came to the conclusion, I'd do anything just to get them back into my life.

"I was so sure," I whispered, moving to the other side of the island, my back turned to Moira.

"Sometimes a person's guilt masks their sense of judgment, Clara. You wanted it so bad that you convinced yourself of impossibility."

"So I turned them for nothing?" I snarled, whipping around. My fangs extending by accident, "I damned two souls for nothing, just for my own selfishness!"

Moira came up to me, her hands outstretched to take my face between them, "my dear, you miss your family. What is the harm in that? Daimon and Evelynn love you to pieces, they always have and I'm one hundred percent sure that they always will… no matter what happens."

Her tone was firm as if she was scolding a child and slowly, my fangs retracted and my face became pitiful. "That still doesn't explain _how_ I was able to do it."

Moira patted my cheek and stepped away from me, "the mind is a powerful thing."

I opened my mouth to argue with her but was interrupted by two figures entering the kitchen. It was because of them that I forced a smile onto my face, "G'morning"

Evelynn came and kissed me on the cheek, "its eight o'clock at night, Clara," she smiled her large blue eyes full of mirth.

My hand snaked up her back, and wrapped around the back of her neck in an affectionate squeeze, "its morning to us."

Beside Moira, Daimon's much larger figure sat on the small stool, his mass over powering it.

"What's on the agenda tonight?" He asked, his fingers drumming against the granite counter. His eyes, identical to his sisters' were full of mischief.

My head shook and my gaze became distant, "nothing as of yet."

The anxious feeling in the bottom of my stomach had swelled yet again, this time to over three times its original size. My hands turned into fists, to the point where my nails drew blood and for the first time in about one hundred years I opened up a connection so deep inside that I had forgotten it was there. A hurricane of images and emotions came flooding in, but the ones that I could identify with the most was fear… and anger. A sense of longing filled my body, it was so strong that even Evelynn and Daimon felt it, a feeling that I had hoped to keep from them longer than I had already.

"Clara, what is it?" Daimon gasped as he visibly fidgeted in discomfort on his seat, "what's with the damn anxiety all of a sudden?"

I didn't answer at first and it was the squeeze to my wrist that shook me from my silence, "go pack a bag. I need to be somewhere, it might be best if you came with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Moira, can you please alert Garrett and Janie to take over for me while I'm gone, the number to contact me is in my office."

"Clara!" Daimon growled, his hand grabbing my arm, "where the hell are we going?"

Instantly my lips curled around my fangs in a snarl and my hand ripped his off of my arm, almost crushing his wrist, "I'll tell you when we get there."

The shock was obvious on everyone's faces and I retreated to the main hallway, "and for the record Daimon, don't you _ever_ question me again. My tolerance for attitude is very low at the moment; now go pack your _fucking_ bags."

҉

We arrived early the next night and I still insisted on keeping Daimon and Evelynn in the dark. The less they knew about why we were here the better I felt, that way I could get in and out quickly. Like ripping off a band aid, I planned on making this hurt as little as possible… for everyone. The Hotel was Grande in stature, and it was swarmed with fellow Vampires, Daimon and Evelynn followed me inside, the both of them feared unfamiliar territory for the most part but they knew fully well nothing would happen as long as I was here.

There were humans as well as Vampires in the nest and they all seemed to be doing the same thing: celebrating. It was almost difficult to move but just by walking I cleared a path for the three of us. I may be smaller than most Vampires and definitely not as old nor as strong as most of them but in my two hundred years presence had become second nature to me.

"Can I help you with something?"

I looked over at a pretty blonde girl sitting behind her desk; she wore a black headset to match a slinky black dress and I sent a smirk her way. My painted red lips pulled up at the corner, "no, you can't."

I was not a typical Vampire, where I looked down on humans, I have many friends who are human and many of those people work for me back home. However there was one thing that I couldn't stand in anyone, mortals and immortals alike, and that was desperation, and this woman just screamed for attention.

Daimon sniggered and Evelynn threw an apologetic look at the girl, but quickly followed in my wake through a mass of people into one of the main rooms. There was a commotion going on that I couldn't see properly but I did make out a pair of female voices.

"There's going to be a cat fight," Daimon grinned and Evelynn shook her head.

"Between a human and a Vampire, this is not going to end well."

I ignored their chatter completely and wove in and out of the bodies until I could see clearly. There was a blonde woman blocking the path to a man; both the man and the other woman were vampires. The other woman, a brunette, turned her body to my direction and I hissed under my breath. An unbelievable anger surged though me as I caught a glimpse of her eyes, they were wild and dangerous and I knew what would come next. My body reacted with hers and the second she went to lunge for the blonde I leaped forward. How I got there first, I'll never know but my hand wrapped tightly around her throat, crushing her windpipe and I dragged her body upwards, my fangs inches from her face.

"Well isn't this a surprise," I hissed, my hand squeezing tighter, "I figured after what happened in New York you would have stayed out of my radar, but I guess unpredictable Vampires are stupid Vampires, huh?"

And I launched her body into the opposite wall.


	4. The Reunion

"Are you alright?"

No one made a sound except for me, and pieces of brick fell around the barely moving body of the brunette woman. My fangs retracted as I turned to face the blonde woman who remained in an obviously uncomfortable position. I reached out and grasped her elbow preferring to frighten her as little as possible; there was no doubt in my mind that she was terrified as is. I smiled in encouragement, willing her to be unharmed.

"Are you alright?" I asked again as she gripped my shoulder to steady herself. She wouldn't speak and I peeked at her throat, making sure her vocal cords had not been damaged.

She nodded eventually but her voice was tentative, "I've seen better days."

There was a sudden surge of anger that wasn't my own and I turned to find that the brunette was seconds from lunging at me. I shoved the blonde towards the man she had been defending and braced myself, just in time to be knocked off my feet and sent across the room and into one of the couches. I hit the back and tumbled over it, landing in a heap on the table that was in front of the couch.

I had not expected her retaliation, but it pissed me off nonetheless.

_I'm totally going to get my ass kicked for this_.

I ran at her, my shoulder collided with her chest and she was knocked into a crowd of people. My fangs were bared and I paced in front of the blonde and the other Vampire like a lioness protecting her young. I refused to look at anyone except the scantily clad brunette in front of me, and I could feel eyes boring into my skin and it made me cringe because I knew exactly _who_ was staring at me.

"You stand no chance against me, _kid_," the brunette snarled at me, "I'm older than you."

I straightened and flashed my pearly whites at her, "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I'd be a very rich woman."

She sneered at me and my eyebrow rose in amusement, "you may be older than I, but the fact of the matter is that I hold Authority over you, and you're walking on a thin line as it is."

She threw her head back and gave a wild laugh; I was not impressed with her level of disrespect and I turned my head a fraction towards Daimon, nodding slightly. Suddenly he was behind her, his hands wrenching her wrists behind her and she hissed in surprise, "What the fuck is this!"

I sauntered over and got in her face, "you're under arrest, Lorena."

"Under who's orders? I demand to know what the meaning of this is!"

"The Queen of New York insists," I stated hearing the clink, and then the hiss of her skin burning off because of the silver handcuffs.

She tried to lunge at me but was held back by the throat, "there is no Queen," she snarled.

"The King was sentenced to the True Death by Nan Flanagan three days ago, I am his replacement."

"But," I began, turning around to face her again. The surprise was apparent on her face, "I don't think of this as an arrest, I think of it more as… payback."

I grabbed her chin in my hand, yanking her down to my height and spoke coldly to her, "two hundred years ago you came into my home, how you did it, I really don't care but you drained the blood of my brother and sister and by _your_ mistake, left me alive. They were eight years old, helpless and for a year I lived with the guilt. My family _hated_ me, because of you."

She stared into my eyes- hazel into blue-green, and slowly, recognition dawned on her face, "I remember you. I thought you were dead."

"The King may have let you off with nothing more than a slap on the wrist, Lorena but I however, have made it my obligation to _deal with_ those who have broken the law. You, sweetheart, have done so multiple times. I am arresting you for the murders of six innocent humans; I will not tolerate the theft of mortal lives, especially in such a brutal way. I have seen the bodies, Lorena, and even I was sick to my stomach."

"It's in my nature…"

"You have had years to better yourself," my voice rose, "and you have failed to do so. There will be no leniency for offenders, and the penalty for killing a human is the True Death. You have killed six; it's a shame that I cannot kill _you_ six times over."

Daimon chuckled and yanked her towards the exit and I called out to him, "she will remain in my Nest until I return. I will deal with her then, and if she tries to escape…"

He gave me an expectant look, patiently waiting for my verdict.

"Kill her."

҉

"Did she really kill your family?"

I set the bottle of Tru Blood on the bar counter and sighed deeply as a hand rubbed gentle pressure on my shoulder. Evelynn took the bar stool next to mine and looked at me pointedly, I knew for a fact that I was not leaving this spot without answering her questions, even if she asked too many.

"Yes," I spoke grimly; the red thickness coated the inside of my mouth and my lips. Almost like peanut butter, to put it in human terms.

Her small hand squeezed mine, "that's horrible." She spoke with such sympathy that it made my heart ache with the memory of that night.

"Death is not horrible," I said painfully, "but living with guilt is an entirely different story."

I did not look at her for fear of her attempts to pry more information out of me. Thankfully though, she chose not to press the matter but instead decided to voice a similar question to Daimon's previous one.

"Why are we here, Clara? Obviously it wasn't to haul that witch back to New York."

I tossed back the last mouthful of Tru Blood and wiped my mouth, "do you want the Truth or a Lie?"

I received a sharp glare and I patted her knee, "I don't know."

There were days that my progenies were more mature than I was, but granted that they were only fifty or so years old they were expected to act like children more than adults. Today was not one of those days where Evelynn's maturity exceeded my own.

"What the _hell_ kind of answer is that, are you telling me that we were dragged away from home for your _entertainment_. GOSH CLARA I WOULD LIKE THE TRUTH FOR ONCE!"

Evelynn's voice was shrill and huffy at the same time; it was a groan and a tone of belittlement all at once.

"I assure you my dear; this is anything _but_ entertainment for me."

"Let's go home then, Daimon might not do anything stupid if we leave now."

I was about to open my mouth and answer when my name was called, twice. I looked around but no one was paying attention to us and I turned back to Evelynn, "Did… you hear…?"

"I heard nothing."

"I swear I just heard…fuck," I growled, my head turned to the ceiling and a frustrated sound came from my lips, "goddamn, I was hoping to bail before…shit."

It was not a request this time, but a demand by a pair of voices. Voices that I had learned very quickly _not_ to defy.

I couldn't even try to ignore the urge to go, it physically hurt me to resist, like a weight was crushing down on my shoulders. I knew it was a mistake to pull down the walls I had placed around myself; those barriers had been the only things keeping me sane. I've known for years that if I were to tear the barricades down I would never get them back up; I was stuck, trapped… I was forced to feel emotions that were not my own, obligated to sort out theirs as well as mine, and my emotions gave me enough problems as it is. Resisting was futile and I knew it, but I was still stubborn and turned my back on the direction that I was itching to go in. Irritation blossomed at the pit of my stomach and it quickly swelled to my heart, this was not _my_ irritation. Soon it evolved into anger and I heard my name being called for a final time. This time I was forced to my feet and I gave my progeny an apologetic look.

"I must go, please see your brother off and tell him to come straight back here when he's dropped Lorena off. I don't want him to dawdle."

Evelynn knew that this was not a tone she should argue with and merely nodded before disappearing around the corner of the bar. I passed a bill towards the bartender and disappeared before he could give me change. I knew of the back room where the Sheriff of Area nine was located, just semi out of the sights of his guests but not so much that the Sheriff couldn't keep an eye on _them_.

When I entered the room there were two less bodies than I had expected, but two more than I had the desire to see. The tall blonde was crouched at the Sheriff's side, they spoke quietly to themselves and I cleared my throat for their attention. Of course I wouldn't put it past them to know that I was already there, but I just had to be the _center of attention_.

"You called?"

The two looked up at once to find my figure propped against the door frame, my legs and arms crossed and a slightly bored expression crossed my face. If I had been chewing gum, I would have just popped my bubble for punctuation.

There was a blast of wind and the blonde was in front of me, his frame loomed over mine and his icy blue eyes bore into my own, he was clearly intimidating.

"What took you so long?" He growled, his weight shifted to the other foot, arms crossing to match mine.

I shrugged him off, moving to press by him when he grabbed my arm and slammed me into the wall out of sight from everyone else and I glared at him, my tone touching icier waters, "I was having a drink," I blatantly expressed and when he didn't release me I sighed, "with my progeny, _Eric_."

"You know, this really isn't what I had in mind for our reunion," I stated, giving his hand that still held my arm a pointed look, "violence is never the answer."

Suddenly I had a snarling Vampire in my face and I winced at how small Eric Northman made me feel.

"Incoming," I muttered before calling out a warning, "Evelynn…"

"LET GO OF HER!"

"What did you do? Call in the midget army?"

"_Eric_," I growled at him and then turned to the seething girl to my right, "Evelynn, knock it off. I'm fine."

"Release her."

The three of us looked up to find the Sheriff on his feet, Eric immediately let go of me and Evelynn moved to block me, "how dare you?" She scolded Eric while attempting to mimic the stern look that I usually had on my face when I was dealing with incorrect behaviour. She failed miserably though, not very often was I even able to get Eric to back down with a look, only Godric was able to do that.

"It's been a while Clara," Godric spoke with an even tone, eyebrows raised slightly.

I remained silent, while Evelynn lingered in front of me. I pulled her to my side, keeping my hand firmly on her wrist, making sure that she would stay there.

"Too long," Eric agreed and I shot a brief glance at him before pushing Evelynn away.

"Go."

"But…"

I shot her a stern look and she flinched away, it wasn't very often when I pulled the Maker card on her or Daimon, but it worked wonders when I really needed it to, "I said go. _Now_."

She stood there with a frustrated look on her face and planted her hands on her hips, "are you not going to beat him down for manhandling you like that?"

My patience was running thin and I spoke quite heatedly, "Sweetheart, A) I cannot do that considering I am not in my jurisdiction, B) That's kind of difficult considering he's about five times my age, and C)," I paused, "he is my Maker. I therefore cannot reprimand him considering it has no hold."

"He's your maker!"

I heaved a great sigh and finally revealed something about myself that I never wanted to,

"Godric _and_ Eric are my makers."


	5. Needed

The door shut with a snap behind me and I could still feel the scorching heat of Evelynn's anger against my back. It was not a comfortable feeling, the thought of such raw emotions being directed towards me and her questions that just burned to be asked left deep impressions against my skin. I felt as if pieces of me were being ripped apart and scattered all over the floor, it was more than _just_ the feeling of being torn; it was more than being overwhelmed it was the thought of my deepest and darkest secrets being dragged out kicking and screaming, only to be exposed as the pathetically diluted pieces of my soul that they really were. Evelynn's growing distrust in me spread like a bad cold and it left me with the ghost of a chill as a constant reminder, that I was slowly becoming more defeated by the minute. But surely having my guts ripped out and displayed like an embarrassment to society was enough, no; having a cyclone of emotions just raging in every part of my body was thrown into the mix. I was livid, and frustrated, sad and confused but I was breathless all at the same time. If only things would just _stop_ all together, just stop so I can take a breath and regain my self-control.

_No._

I thought this as I came barrelling down the stairs and towards the room where my Makers had stayed behind. I had control, I always have but the minute _they_ get involved my whole world is thrown into this spiralling mess leaving nothing but catastrophe in its wake. Such raw emotion could only be ripped out of my heart by Eric Northman. The mere sight of him was enough to send me on a rampage of destruction… the thought of that insufferable smirk…

_Damn you to hell Eric Northman, you will forever be a pain in my ass._

I stormed down the hall and through the throng of Vampires who mixed and mingled with each other, the deathtrap heals that I wore clicked furiously against the tiled floor, sounding very fittingly like a ticking time bomb.

"You are such a _brat_ Eric Northman," I snarled, my breast heaved with what I could only imagine was adrenalin, "when will you _ever_ stop acting like such a child?"

That infuriating little grin tugged at his lips and he shrugged me off with such a simple comeback, "you are the child, Kitten, I am the Maker."

I was engulfed by a volcanic rage and my lips curled around my fangs in a vicious snarl, "then _fucking_ act like one."

Instantly I was thrown into the wall for the second time that night, a hand closed around my throat by none other than Godric, whose eyes had darkened to something I hadn't seen in years.

"Retract your fangs."

He was met with an animalistic look and my hands closed around his wrist, foolishly attempting to pry his hand from my throat; they were caught, however by his other hand and pinned against my body, his face loomed closer to mine, inches away from my still bared fangs.

"Now, Clara."

Reluctantly they retracted with a snap and I observed Godric with disdain, I was not pleased with having my attempts to throttle Eric thwarted, especially by Godric whom I had always gotten along with.

"How many times do we have to tell you? _Not_ to bare your fangs at us. I will not tolerate such an act of disrespect in my own home, am I clear?"

When I didn't answer him immediately his hand tightened and I gasped out, "crystal."

His hand reactively slackened and he lowered it slightly so it rested just beneath the hollow of my throat, firm pressure was still applied, "I shouldn't still have to remind you, Clara. Have you forgotten so soon?"

I relaxed and my head hung in shame. I did not like when either of them reprimanded me in such a way and damn them _both_ to hell for making me feel guilty so easily, "no, I have not forgotten."

He removed his hand from my chest and released my wrists where I shook them out and spoke sadly, "I'm sorry Godric, it-it won't happen again."

A ghostly smile pulled on his lips and he tugged me into a loose but welcomed hug, "it's been a long time, little one."

A sigh escaped my lips and my chin rested on his shoulder, "too long," I spoke, my eyes closing in peace but Eric decided to interrupt.

"Now who's fault would that be, hmm?"

My eyes snapped open and a growl resounded in the back of my throat, Godric's arm immediately tightened and I was forced to let go of my anger yet again.

Sometimes I wondered if Godric ever grew tired of always playing peace keeper between Eric and me, I mean, why didn't he just let us go at it for a while. I know that whenever Daimon and Evelynn get into it I let them go for a while to blow off steam, but when it gets too violent I usually interfere.

_Godric probably doesn't let you two fight at all because he knows that you don't stand a chance in hell against Eric_.

"Shut up Eric, and give me a hug."

It was pathetic really, the height difference between us, I felt like a baby in his arms, completely immersed by strength and safety. Eric's hug was tighter, like he was trying to imbed me into his skin and I squirmed, "you're squishing me."

He let me go and grinned down at me, for once a genuine smile, "welcome home."

I had to struggle with an obvious cringe at the word 'home', it was vital that I didn't let on about my discomfort.

"So," I began as I ducked out of Eric's arms after a minute or two and sauntered to the other side of the room, "is there something going on here?" I asked as I stretched out on Godric's chair like a contented cat, my legs crossed lazily at the ankle and I would have purred out of spite if it were possible.

My eyes flicked from one face to the other and I sighed, "Because obviously I wouldn't _be_ here if there wasn't something going on."

I watched as Eric looked down at Godric as if he was the one that should be explaining but Godric made no move to do so, instead he continued to stare at me, like I was someone worth looking at.

"One of you better start talking right now because otherwise me hauling my ass all the way out here has been a big waste of my time," my voice rose with every word and when neither of them stepped up to the plate I stood up in a huff and went to march past them, but I was stopped when Godric placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Is it really a waste of your time to see your Makers after one hundred years of separation?"

His hand was an unnecessary restraint as I stopped dead in my tracks, my jaw squaring with irritation at the blossoming guilt that resided in my chest. Maybe 'waste of time' was a poor choice of words on my part but they weren't the worst ones I could have picked.

I took a step back so I could look Godric in the eye, "by 'waste of time' I mean time that can be spent on other things. I have things to do, people to see and _criminals_ to _deal with_. I cannot do any of these things of which I am required to do when I am here… just another _unnecessary_ Vampire in an Area that is already covered by a _spectacular_ Sheriff," I gave him a sweet smile and went to move around him again.

"We need you here, Clara… _I_ need you here. Please, stay."

It was the desperation in his tone that made me stop, usually I try not to submit to my emotions as Godric and Eric had _tried_ to teach me but sometimes things slip through the cracks. I bit down on my lip harder than expected and blood stained my lips further; the red lipstick had disappeared ages ago, and my eyes shut in pain from the crumbling pieces of my heart. I hated when they made me feel like this, like their pain was my fault. Maybe it was… by putting up those barriers I had only one intention and that was to block them out, completely. But how hard is it to track me down? Honestly! A pair of millennia old Vampires – at the _least_, could not have had such a problem with tracking a one hundred year old Vampire down. My defences couldn't have been that hard to tear down, and I'm pretty damn sure that they weren't any stronger now, so how _dare_ Godric make me feel so guilty… how dare they come back into _my_ life and just take over like I was born yesterday.

_But you came back into their life, not the other way around. Maybe you need them as much as they need you._

Godric now had both of his hands on my shoulders and gently he turned me to face him, neither Eric nor Godric liked it when I avoided eye contact with them, it made it more difficult for them to catch me in a lie. "Please. Stay," he asked again and I sighed heatedly.

"Fine," I said, giving up. My hands rose and then fell against my side in frustration, not entirely because of Godric but because of my lack of back bone, "I'll stay, but only because you asked so nicely."

I received a crooked smile and Godric licked his thumb before applying it to my lips to remove the dried blood, the wound long since healed. I gave a shuddering sigh, my eyes closing for a second time at the contact and then I pulled away, licking the rest of the dried blood from my lips, "I need to get upstairs, I have a very pissed of progeny to _tend_ to."

I inclined my head in farewell and turned to leave, but another voice caught my attention. One that I did not know, but it seemed that everyone else recognized him from a previous event. This voice came from a human, and I could already gather that his intentions were not good. I felt Eric's body move behind mine and Godric came to stand slightly in front of me.

"Attention everyone."

_This is not going to be good._

"My name is Luke McDonald; I'm a member of the Fellowship of the Sun."

I wanted to laugh at the mere thought of this _communion_, the Fellowship of the Sun were just a bunch of Vampire hating crack-jobs that lacked the courage to do anything in the defence of their beliefs, but something tells me that this _Luke_ character was about to prove me wrong because not many humans wore large jackets in the middle a Dallas summer.

"And I have a message for you all; from Reverend Steve Newlin."

He then unzipped his jacket and from there everything moved so fast. One second I was standing there between my Makers, watching as hell was about to be unleashed on Godric's home and the next second I was sent flying to the ground, a second body blocking any potential damage to my own. I heard the loud explosion, and then screams of those in the next room but everything seemed quieter, muffled as I lay there with Godric splayed across my body.

It was at that moment in time that I finally realised that war was fast approaching, but instead of it being instigated by Vampires like everyone had been predicting, the Humans had decided to bring the first battle to us.

Well, they may have won the first Battle but the War has only just begun.


	6. A new Kind of Pain

There was a great deal of pain searing through my right shoulder and I could barely move my limbs let alone my body to find out. I wasn't completely sure why the pain took so long to catch up to me, but it did nevertheless and it certainly wasn't pleasant. I vaguely noticed the destruction around me but it seemed that I had been tackled _through_ a wooden table, and on top of everything else my Maker remained on top of me, and he wasn't moving.

"G-Godric?" I coughed, a bit of blood trickling past the corner of my lips.

His body stirred, and he lifted his head from the left crook of my neck, the pain just from the impact was evident on his face.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said, "are you?"

"Well, I would appear to be, aside from the white hot pain in my shoulder. Now I would check myself but it's a little…ah, difficult in our," I looked at his face and then back down to the limited space between our bodies pointedly and then strained on the rest of my sentence, "current situation."

He quickly rolled off of me so I could sit up and I couldn't help but think back on all of the other times I had found myself at the bottom of the pile, the guess of who would be on top is an easy one. I think I sat up too fast because suddenly room was spinning in front of me, Godric had to steady my swaying body with a firm hand on my shoulder and his expression was pained.

"There appears to be a large piece of wood sticking out of your shoulder, I'll have to pull it out in order for you to heal."

"Well don't tell me!" I growled, flinching noticeably at the thought of having a piece of wood lodged into my shoulder, "just do it!"

I felt the firmness of his hand spread across my back and I bit my lip when I felt his fingers edging around the wound, "it's deeper than I thought." He said

I snorted at the second connotation of those words and it was quickly turned into a cry of pain as I felt his fingers go beneath the surface of the wound and seconds later there was a harsh tug and the white hot pain turned to scraping, and then to throbbing pain in seconds. I heard the shard clatter a few feet away and then Godric helped me to my feet.

"You need human blood in order for that to heal quickly," he advised, leading me into the next room where we were met with unbelievable chaos.

"You're bleeding."

I turned around to find Eric watching me, there were bloody holes in his black shirt, and a little was smeared by his lips. He had this look on his face like a child who had just spoiled his dinner with cookies, and hadn't been caught.

"And that's amusing to you?"

His fingers probed the wound and I hissed, jumping away from him as he spoke, "of course it isn't funny. You'll need blood in order for that to heal."

"I'll be fine," I growled, looking around at the damage. I watched as Godric's underling, Isabel went around helping the wounded.

"Clara..." Godric turned to look at me, his tone full of warning.

"I said I'll be fine," I snapped, "I'll live with the slower healing process, besides we have bigger problems to address. We were just attacked by a suicide bomber…bunch of gutless fuckers those Fellowship people are."

Godric completely ignored my derogatory comment and turned his attention to his Hispanic underling, "who's dead?"

Isabel looked at us sadly, the faintest bit of anger lacing her tone, "Stan, Palo, Katherine and two human companions," she then turned to look at the destruction that lay behind her with distaste.

I glanced at Godric when a pang of defeat slammed against my chest; it had to have come from him because Eric was too tense beside me to feel anything but contempt for the mortal race at the moment. I could practically feel my heart crack into two pieces at the look on his face, I never thought that I would ever see my two thousand year old Maker look so small and helpless at that moment but I also felt pride when he took the reins again and directed everyone to the Hotel Carmilla, it was then that I stole a glance at Eric and he too noticed what I had. He then ushered me out of the room and I peered over my shoulder to find the same defeated look on his face as he looked around at his destroyed home.

And then a new kind of pain struck me in the heart, shattering it into a million pieces.

҉

I had been watching everything that took place in the meeting with Nan Flanagan in silence, I was taking note of everything she was saying and quietly disagreeing. A number of times Eric had sent me glances, blatantly wondering why I hadn't come to Godric's defence. I knew that I had to watch my tongue around this woman but I was also slick with my words and I could take her down a peg or two, even if she was over twice my age. It was the girl that I had saved earlier that caught my attention, her body suddenly jolting like a light bulb had finally gone off in the girl's airy head. My hand shot out and I tugged at the tip of her pony tail and she whirled around angrily, I shook my head only a fraction at her and she clearly misunderstood my message.

"Why are you even here? This doesn't have anything to do with you."

I raised my eyebrow at the nerve this girl had and pointedly looked at the wall across from me, "you might want to keep a leash on your pet, Mr. Compton. I've saved her life once tonight; I can take it away just. As. Easily."

He turned to me with his fangs bared, "don't you dare threaten her."

"And don't you threaten me, I'm older than you."

"Not by much," he challenged.

"You don't know my temper, Mr. Compton. I suggest you back the fuck off."

"What is your purpose here, Clara? Shouldn't you be in New York?" Nan asked, her own eyebrows lifting to her hair line, a small smirk lifted the corner of her lips. She was clearly amused by me.

My lips curled in forced respect, "Just business Ma'am." I glanced at Eric again and our eyes met, briefly my eye flinched in a wink and I spoke again, "but… Correct me if I'm wrong, Ms. Flanagan but are you not currently situated in a Vampire Rights and Mortal – Immortal coexistence crusade?"

She stared at me with uncertainty; even I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this.

"That is the general idea, yes."

"Now tell me, Ms. Flanagan… are you acquainted with the term 'trust'?"

"By all means Clara, if you are trying to make a point, get to it already," She snarled at me and I smiled at her in mock respect.

"Clar-," Godric tried to stop me but I shot him a stern look, one that clearly suggested that he shut his mouth.

I manouvered myself around the couch so I was standing about a foot away from Eric and in Nan's direct line of sight, "As far as I'm concerned in order to coexist with anyone – man, woman, child, mortal, immortal or other species," I quickly shot the blonde beside Mr. Compton a look and continued, "trust is the necessary foundation."

"How are we to trust the Humans if they give us no reason to, and vice versa. Godric here has done the best he could under the circumstances and to his ability. Sure, he could have ripped every single human apart if he wanted to. The strength of twenty or so humans doesn't even come close to his, but what kind of position would that put him in? If he did tonight what I'm sure every other Vampire wanted to do, you would have had a mess over three times as large as the one now to clean up, not to mention your entire campaign would have been destroyed."

"What are you saying Clara?"

"I'm saying that Godric _trusted_ the humans _not_ to do anything, he promised them no bloodshed and they threw it into our faces. Someone had to take the first step in this relationship and Godric did so, on behalf of the Vampires. Are you really going to punish him for doing what you want?"

"Well Godric made the wrong choice didn't he?"

"Well what the _fuck _do you want?" I snarled, my hands balling into fists, this woman was clearly _nothing_ like she appeared on television, she was callous even for a Vampire, with absolutely no idea what she wanted.

"_Excuse me_?"

"The last time I checked we are Vampires not _fucking_ MIND READERS! How the hell are we supposed to know if a bunch of fuck up humans are going to attack us?"

"You watch your mouth with me little girl. Now I will not have a pre-pubescent _teenager_ order me around, you forget who has the authority here -."

"No," I spoke menacingly, my finger jabbing in her direction, "you listen to me you cold hearted, two faced, tyrannous bitch."

The room went dead silent with the surprising insult and now was the time for me to make my speech; if I was going to die I was not going to go down without a fight. There weren't very many Vampires around who got away with speaking to Nan Flanagan, the Authority's spokesperson with such disrespect, and there were even less two hundred year old Vampires who even dared to address her in such a way – even if it was on everyone's mind.

"Whose side are you really on? Because I'm beginning to wonder who you really care about, who's more important to you, a bunch of snivelling humans or Vampires - your own race? And you better pick Vampires or so help me you will be out of your job."

"Is that a threat?" She snarled as she jumped to her feet. Her minions bared their fangs in hopes of forcing me to back down, but clearly they didn't know about my contempt for authority.

"It's a fucking promise," I growled back, my fangs baring, "I have friends in higher places than you _Nan_, and before you can even say 'coexistence' you'll be fired, and left to beg and slum on the streets. I'll make sure of it. And if you _really_ insist on firing Godric then I step down as Queen of New York."

Nan quickly fell back into her seat and gasped out, "you're bluffing."

"You and I both know how good I am at my job. You like me, even if I piss you off. You wouldn't have made me Queen otherwise."

Her hand met her face as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "fine, you will remain as Sheriff, Godric."

That seemed to lighten up the tension in the room, everyone seemed happier now, except for Godric who remained staring at the floor. Nan Flanagan rose to her feet, and passed me with her minions following close on her heels, and after a split second thought I turned to face her retreating back.

"Oh, and Ms. Flanagan?" I called out, my face taking on a haughty expression when she turned to face me, "if you _ever_ threaten either one of my Makers again, I'll rip your throat out. Six hundred years age difference or not."

When the door snapped behind her the Blonde turned towards me with a fire in her eyes, she was about to fire at me when I tapped a finger to my lips and pointed at the door and cupped my ear. I listened as the footsteps became quieter and quieter and then disappear altogether and I chuckled to myself, ignoring the flare of pain that still laced my shoulder.

"I guess I better find myself friends who are higher up."


	7. Won't let you go

I stood quietly on the other side of the door, waiting patiently for either Eric or Godric to come out. Inside I could hear the small discussion between Maker and Child but I didn't zero in on specific details, I had won tonight's battle on sheer dumb luck and I suppose the victory had made me out to be someone that I wasn't. To those who don't know me I express an impassiveness to the whole _coexistence _subject, but to those who _do_ know me are aware that I can lie extremely well, so well in fact that I can convince _myself_ of the most obvious of lies. However, the more that I lie to myself the more difficult it becomes to organize those tales and eventually I will find myself drowning in the crashing waves of the unknown – of what is reality and what is make believe, and I know this will be my fate because it has almost happened once before.

The hall was empty, and lined with closed black doors, keeping the secrets in and the lies out…or maybe it was the other way around, I don't know which one it is but I didn't get a chance to think further on the subject because suddenly the door on the opposite wall, just to my left opened and Mr. Compton walked out, leading his blonde toy behind him. He gave me a wary look, and made sure to block his _human_ from my line of sight, but I hardly cared about them as my attention was drawn to the third figure who exited. Godric gave me a soulful look, one that I didn't quite understand and then stepped to the side so Eric could fill the hall with his presence. I searched my second oldest Maker's face in earnest, looking for some type of mute verdict but his face was harder to read than a stone, and I was left with no answers to the billion questions that burned in the back of my mind. Vaguely I heard my oldest Maker call to us and as I passed by Eric to follow in his wise footsteps, Eric's hand squeezed my shoulder in an unfamiliar way and then I fell into step beside Godric.

The only person harder to read than Eric was Godric and tonight was no different. We were heading in the direction of my room and I had no idea what to expect once we entered, this walk down the empty hallway felt like the walk on death row – cold, empty and slightly grief stricken. I thought for sure that I was in trouble; for speaking out of turn, for the high level of disrespect – to both Nan and that Blonde and for giving Godric that look - a look I had never given to anyone except my brother and sister when I was trying to save them from a lashing of my father's belt. There were a number of things I could be in trouble for; maybe it was for defying their wishes for me to drink human blood in order to heal, maybe it was for not being around for the past one hundred years or maybe it was just the fact that I left in the first place. The point is that I felt this sense of dread slowly numbing my heart, and there was nothing that I could do to stop it. This was fate, this was destiny, call it what you want but there was no way in getting around the fact that I was in some sort of trouble with my Makers, and I was being led to my death – figuratively speaking of course.

The surprise that trickled down my spine like a cold, but melted ice cube made me jump when I felt Godrics hand wrap around mine, his fingers filling the spaces between my own. I looked to the side of his face, studying him but he determinedly continued to stare straight ahead, with no expression on his face. This was not an action of thanks, I don't think, it wasn't an act of reassurance and it wasn't in any way romantic. It was emotional, yes, but not quite romantic, and the only thing I could do was close my fingers around his hand because he was not planning on letting go. When we got to the door, I pulled out my key and unlocked it; my hand was then released as I was the first to venture inside. The door shut with a snap once all three of us were inside and it was only then that the waterfall of apologies began to spew out of my mouth – never ending word vomit and I just couldn't stop. The only thing that was said was a continuous string of 'I'm sorry's'.

It was when Godric held his hand out that I stopped and an empty smile touched his lips, "I am not angry with you my Child."

It was then that I could hear the defeat in his voice.

"Come here," he said, his arms opening with invitation, and I went to him without hesitation.

My arms snaked around his neck and I pulled him against my body, my head rested on his chest at his collar bone, and my face buried into the underside of his neck. His arms matched my strength when they wrapped around my waist and across my back, his hand folding into my hair. There definitely something wrong with my Maker, he was quiet and distant like there was something eating away at him and I wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past two days how a Fellowship of _humans_ could kidnap my two thousand year old Maker, he had also said that he had volunteered, but _why_? They were going to make him meet the sun, they were going to watch him burn like a grand old bonfire on the fourth of July, like he was _nothing_. Surely he understood this, surely he understood that if he hadn't of escaped or if Eric hadn't of saved him that he would be _dead_ right now; surely he _didn't want to burn_.

And then that was when it hit me.

The emptiness and the defeat in his eyes, the way he walked, and the way he acted, like a weight was growing heavier and heavier on his shoulders. The smiles that I have seen, they were not the true smiles of Godric, his smiles could light up my entire world. They both could.

Now I realized why Godric had grabbed my hand, I understood the emotion behind it. He was scared, and needed an anchor. Something I had never expected of him.

But now that I think about it, what would have happened if I hadn't of come to Dallas? What if I had ignored the sudden rage that Eric had felt, and stayed in New York… would Godric be already dead? Would he have left without so much as a goodbye to me, would he really put me through that kind of pain?

And what about Eric? They've been together for centuries; would Godric really leave his first Child?

With every growing thought that passed by my arms had become tighter and tighter, and with those thoughts tears escaped my eyes. They trailed down my cheeks and bled into the fabric of Godric's shirt, ruining the cloth. His arms reached up and he pried mine from around his neck, and I saw slight alarm flicker in his eyes when he saw the blood staining my face. His hands held me at arm's length and I fingered the stain on his shirt, muttering an apology, but he only cupped my face and wiped the blood from my eyes with his thumbs.

"Why do you cry Clara?"

I could look anywhere but in his eyes because I knew that the second I did, I would break down and just start screaming, instead I focused on the stain in his shirt, stubbornly trying to scratch it out but I knew that I was just making it worse. Like I always seemed to make everything worse.

"Clara. Clara look at me," Godric spoke sharply, giving my body a shake and I regretfully dragged my eyes to his, and instantly I was looking into a world of pain, his pain. My lip quivered and my hands went to his wrists, holding them tightly and all he could do was pull me against his chest.

Nothing that I said made any sense for a good ten minutes; the words just came out as mumbles and moans…even for a Vampire. I felt so pathetic and needy but I just didn't want to let go, I couldn't let go. There was still so much that needed to be said and done, and there wasn't enough time in the world to get everything accomplished.

I just wanted more time.

"Why do you want to die?" It came just barely above a whisper but it was enough to draw a silence from the other two Vampires in the room. It was so quiet that even a mortal could hear a pin drop.

"It's time Clara, two thousand years is enough for me," he spoke calmly, his hands still smoothed over my back and up around my shoulders.

I drew back from him as much as I possibly could and hissed, "_Time_?" I glared at his saddened face, "you want to die because you've _had enough?_" I punched him on the chest and then in the stomach and then on the shoulder and from there I struck every inch of his body that I could reach before he forced me to the bed and sat me down, his own form knelt between my legs and he held my wrists in a position where it was impossible for me to harm him, or myself. I struggled against his grip, I fought for my strength because I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting me, but what was surprising was that Eric was just idly standing by.

"Stop it, Clara. That's enough."

"No!" I screamed desperately, trying to twist my wrists from his grip, "you can't die, Godic, not on me. I ca-can't, I _won't _let you die."

"Please, Clara," he pleaded with me, his hands moving to mine where he clenched my fingers in his, holding them up to his lips so I could feel them move while he spoke, "let me go, you have to let me go."

"I will _never_ let you go. I'll keep you alive by force."

Something told me that this was not the first time those words had been spoken to him tonight and I glanced fearfully at Eric, I silently pleaded with him for help. If anyone could get Godric to change his mind, it was Eric and I was depending on my Viking's strength to get me through tonight.

"Even if you could," Godric responded sadly, his thumbs rubbing circles along my knuckles, "why would you be so cruel?

"Cruel?" I asked sharply, my hands pulling from his like they were made of silver, "you want to talk about _cruelty_ Godric? You're the one being cruel, to me _and_ to Eric. How could you ever think we would ever be okay with this?

"With everything I have done-."

"It's in the past," I mumbled, my hands clutching desperately to my oldest Maker's face, "you are my _family_ Godric. You, and Eric and Daimon and Evelynn are my family now and I've barely even _begun_ to get over the loss of my first one so don't you dare take away one of the most important pieces of my current family, don't you _dare_ put me through that pain again, Godric. I would_ never _forgive you for that."

"I _love_ you Clara, and if you ever loved me, you would let me go."

I jumped to my feet and the suddenness of this movement actually knocked Godric to the ground and I growled at him, "Don't you dare pull that shit on me. I would love to know what would have happened if I hadn't of shown up in Dallas. Obviously this isn't a sudden revelation, so would I have woken up one day to find our Connection _gone_? Would you have even said goodbye to me?"

Godric got to his feet, his hand reaching out to me in attempts to calm me down, "Clara-."

"And why does _he_ get to spend more time with you?" I shrieked, pointing viciously at Eric, my eyes were wide and fearful, "why does he get a thousand or more years to spend with you and I only get one hundred?"

"That is kind of your fault-," Eric began.

"Shut up!" I bellowed, rounding on him, "don't you dare bring my _mistakes_ into this!"

I stood between my Makers, seething. My breasts and shoulders heaved violently with air I didn't need, and my body shook with the rawest of emotions. Blood poured from my eyes and dripped from my chin onto my clothes and the carpet, and shakily I sat back down on the bed with my face in my hands. "Please," I moaned, my face peaking from my hands, "please don't do this Godric. I need you, Eric needs you. There's still so much I can learn from you-."

"And Eric can teach you these things."

"But I don't want to learn them from _just _Eric. I want to learn them from you too, please. You are my family. If you die I die."

"Clara," Godric smiled as he came to sit beside me, "I assure you that you will not die-."

"I will," I interrupted, "if you walk into the sun, I _will_ follow you."

He suddenly rounded on me, his anger shooting though my body like a dart through the air, "you will not follow me. As your Maker I-."

"Command me all you want. But you will have to find every possible loop hole there is to find and block me from it because I assure you I will find a way around your barricades," I spoke confidently, my hands firmly in my lap. This time though, I spoke softer, gentler, "you don't think I know how this feels? How you feel, with the guilt and shame that you have. It may be in a much smaller comparison to your own, but for two hundred years I've lived with my siblings deaths. For _two hundred years_ I've blamed myself, and succumbed to the darkness that came with the blame and in those first hundred years with you and Eric the pain started to ease, and I began to feel more like myself. Now, I realise that in the years we've spent apart the pain I felt has only crept back, even stronger than before."

"Eric would never let you do this-."

"Then Eric will have to keep me within arm's reach for the rest of my life because the second that I get away I will follow you Godric. Two hundred years is enough for me, as two thousand is enough for you."

There was a painful silence as we all processed what was happening; my world was definitely spinning out of control now as I thought about what _I_ had said. I had just finished telling Godric not to leave us and here I am, promising that I would follow him if he died. Could I really do that to my _own_ progenies, could I put them through that pain as Godric had planned to do to me? So I sat there in both physical and emotional pain, I didn't really know what to think at the moment… in fact I had forgotten _how_ to think all together, I was not in my mind nor in my body and I just stared blankly at the door, longing to take off once again.

"You…you always told me," I said after a while, not turning in either of my Makers directions, no, I continued to stare blankly with my eyes glazed over, "you always told me, Godric… _not_ to run from my past. So please, if you were to _ever_ take your own advice, now would be the ideal time to do so."

I felt a pair of presences step up to the wall I had built around myself, keeping my emotions to myself and the Connection I had with my Makers severed. I knew what they wanted and reluctantly I knocked down the wall brick by brick until there was a small mountain of debris littered around me, leaving me open and vulnerable. I could only imagine what Godric and Eric must have felt when the tidal wave of intense, raw emotion hit them, I could only picture them being knocked down with the force of it. As much as I tried being strong, and hard and intimidating, at the end of the night was just a girl, frightened and cowering in a corner, I was still new, still fresh and while I was good at what I did, I still questioned my position, and my power.

Suddenly there was an arm around my waist and a second arm grabbed my legs and draped them over his lap, Godric then pressed my head against his shoulder and sighed deeply into my hair. I felt Eric sit down beside Godric, behind me, and his hand rubbed my back.

"P-promise me," I whispered, my eyes staring straight ahead, "promise me you won't leave Godric."

"Only if you promise me something in return."

"Anything," I cried in desperation, I would do whatever he wanted if only that ensured Godric's life beyond tonight.

"Promise me that you will not leave us either, Clara. Do not disappear on Eric and myself like you did before, I do not know what I would do if you left again, without saying goodbye."

I nodded, my head bumping into his chin and I wrapped my arm around his middle, hugging him to me as best as I could in this awkward position. Eric's head rested against my back and his arm slid around my waist and we remained like this for hours. I didn't dare move, for fear it was just a dream and I certainly didn't trust myself to speak, I probably wouldn't have made much sense anyways.


End file.
